


we will rock you

by montecarlos



Category: Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst, M/M, Rock Stars, Romance, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:42:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22741948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlos/pseuds/montecarlos
Summary: “So what now, boss?” Jorge drawls.“Well, I guess I need to find you pricks a new guitar player,” Alberto says with a sigh.He stands up and ushers the remnants of the band out of his office, trying to ignore the headache that is threatening to seize control. Managing Yamaha has never been an easy task - not from Valentino’s almost-diva like demands, to ensuring that Jorge isn’t caught snorting cocaine off a model’s breasts or doing anything too life-threatening.
Relationships: Jorge Lorenzo/Dani Pedrosa, Marc Marquez/Valentino Rossi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	1. part one

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea a few weeks back, and it wouldn't leave me alone. I wanted to finish it all in one go, but I have a feeling that it's going to be a monster. I love the idea of the boys as a rock band and damn if Dani isn't a perfect bass player and Valentino would be the frontman to end all frontmen. It will be eventually a Vale/Marc and Dani/Jorge fic. Title taken very unimaginatively from Queen, which was the perfect basis for the band. 
> 
> A big thank you to J for allowing me to soundboard as always.

* * *

__

_Stoner cited the press attention as the main reason for his departure, but reports have surfaced of fighting within the band, particularly between Stoner and drummer Jorge Lorenzo. The pair have always had a fiery relationship, but it appears that Lorenzo’s pechance for partying and living up to the rockstar persona has caused relations to break down between the pair._ _  
_ _  
_ _“Casey isn’t happy with Jorge’s behaviour,” A source close to the pair revealed. “Casey got married last year and has settled down, he’s a different person now. Things between them have been tough for ages but Jorge turning up for rehearsals still drunk was the final straw,”  
  
_

* * *

_  
_ “Fucking bastard,” Alberto seethes, throwing the newspaper down on his desk, his face red with anger. “Did any of you know about this?”  
  
He’s met with confused stares from the remaining members of the band. Valentino is the first to speak. It’s to be expected, as the frontman, he has always been considered the de-facto leader of the group. He shakes his head, taking a brief drag on his cigarette as he surveys their manager with shrewd eyes. “Of course we didn’t fucking know. He has always been secretive, you know that. We didn’t even know he was getting married until a month before it happened,”  
  
“Good riddance, I say,” Jorge pipes up. He looks debauched, still in the outfit he was wearing yesterday at the gig, Philipp Plein jacket still smelling of cigarette smoke, beer and sex. “He was a miserable bastard anyways,”  
  
Alberto ignores Jorge’s comment. The tabloids weren’t wrong about the friction between Casey and Jorge - he has been a sticking point ever since the band formed - they’ve always been different people. Casey never wanted to live the rockstar lifestyle, whilst Jorge embodies everything about a rockstar. He smokes, drinks, takes drugs and has a different person in his bed every night. It was only a matter of time before their difference in lifestyles caused a permanent rapture. “So none of you knew this was coming? Dani?”  
  
Dani, who up until now has been silent, stiffens at the question. “I didn’t know anything, Casey didn’t tell me anything,”  
  
Jorge snorts, and Dani flushes at the drummer’s reaction. “Sure, you didn’t know. He tells you everything,”  
  
“Not this time-” Dani begins, his lip caught between his teeth.  
  
“Because he finally dumped you, now he is pretending to be straight,” Jorge snarls, almost scornfully.  
  
Alberto notices Dani’s fists clench at the accusation. “You’re out of line, Lorenzo,”  
  
“That’s not what you said to me last night, Pedrosa,”  
  
Dani turns bright red, before he wordlessly and uncharacteristically pushes back his chair and leaves the room. Jorge watches him go, the entire office is enveloped in silence before he snatches the remainder of the cigarette smoking between Valentino’s fingers and takes a swift drag, his eyes moving to lock on Alberto. 

“So what now, boss?” Jorge drawls.

“Well, I guess I need to find you pricks a new guitar player,” Alberto says with a sigh.  
  
He stands up and ushers the remnants of the band out of his office, trying to ignore the headache that is threatening to seize control. Managing Yamaha has never been an easy task - not from Valentino’s almost-diva like demands, to ensuring that Jorge isn’t caught snorting cocaine off a model’s breasts or doing anything too life-threatening. He always thought Dani and Casey were the sensible ones - for Dani, it was inevitable - there were very few out and out crazy bass players, whilst for Casey, he let his music do the talking, let Valentino and Jorge do all the crazy atypical things that a rock star does. But clearly he was wrong. He never imagined that Dani and Casey would find solace in one another, and he certainly never foresaw Dani falling into Jorge’s arms as a rebound. But the quiet, underlying fury in Jorge’s tone is something that he has never seen before. It was almost as if Jorge was _jealous_ in some way of Dani and Casey’s relationship. Alberto throws back the remainder of his now cold coffee, pushing the thoughts to one side as he focuses on the matter at hand.  
  
A new guitar player.  
  


* * *

  
Alberto was ready to pull his hair out. They had had an enormous response from the advert that he had placed for a replacement guitar player - but many of them seemed to be starstruck fans who just wanted a glimpse of Valentino or a chance to just jam with their heroes.  
  
Jorge is the first one to throw in the towel.  
  
“This isn’t going to fucking work,” He snaps, throwing down his drumsticks in defiance.  
  
Dani looks up from his bass, his dark eyes watching as the drummer stamps out of the room, the tell-tale click of a lighter following his footsteps.  
  
“Maybe we should take a break for now?” Valentino suggests, taking a swig from his bottle of water. “We’ve been playing since noon,”  
  
Dani glances up at his bandmate, trying to ignore the sting of his fingers, all taped up from his playing. He stifles a laugh - Valentino doesn’t play an instrument, and certainly not one as demanding as the bass. But nevertheless, the remainder of the band call time, and Dani retreats to a quiet corner of the room to look over the lyrics he was working on for the next song. He watches Valentino slip out of the room, tapping the box of cigarettes against his palm, undoubtedly going to join Jorge outside for a smoke. Dani allows himself to glance over the words hurriedly scrawled over the pages of his journal - they’re lyrics he would never show to the band, words of unrequited love, of stolen glances across a room, of someone you’re so deeply in love with and have been most of your life -  
  
“Excuse me? Is this the audition for Yamaha?” A voice cuts through the silence. Dani stiffens and slams the notebook shut, his cheeks turning pink as he surveys the man who interrupted him.  
  
A skinny slip of a guy with cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass surveys him with equally dark eyes. “Hi, I’m Marc,” The guy smiles, and it’s blinding for a moment.  
  
Dani blinks once before he notices the guitar case in the man’s hand. “Oh, you’re here to audition?”  
  
“Yeah,” Marc says with a wide smile. “Heard you were looking for the best, and well, that’s me,”  
  
Dani can only raise an eyebrow in disbelief but remains silent as Marc slowly pulls out a Fender from his case, handling the instrument as one would a newborn baby. It looks fairly old and well worn, but Marc seems to take no notice of Dani’s gaze, tuning up the instrument. Dani watches with bated breath as Marc begins to play, the opening chords to ‘My Opinion’ ring out into the air. But it’s different, different to how Casey played it all those years ago when they were nothing but scrappy teenagers. Dani watches Marc carefully, how he seems to become one with his instrument, his hands slowly gliding over each chord as though it’s his last, and he feels his mouth fall open. He finds himself grabbing hold of his bass, his fingers finding the chords like they did the first time, the music enveloping the small, crowded space.  
  
“What the hell is going on?” Valentino’s voice cuts through the music, and he and Marc stop to see the frontman and Jorge standing in the doorway with wide eyes. Valentino’s blue eyes dance over Marc, and remain there as though in a trance.  
  
“I think we have just found our new guitar player,” Dani announces with a smile. 


	2. part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marc has settled into the band as Valentino struggles with his growing interest towards the guitarist. Jorge reaches the end of his tether as Dani goes to dinner with ex bandmate Casey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hit some inspiration with this fic so here's another chapter. I'm not sure how long this will be, but I know that it is probably going to be a monster. Just a few things - there's a trigger warning in place for alcohol and hard drug use within this chapter, also I'm not sure on timing but this chapter is set like a few months after Marc joined the band. I don't often use long time jumps but I didn't really want to spend forever on establishing those first few boring days, I wanted some drama!
> 
> A big thank you as always to J, who was again my soundboard on how I can fuck up Jorge Lorenzo.

Marc fits into the band dynamic perfectly. He’s sunshine personified - not as serious and business-orientated as Casey, but not as demanding as Valentino and Jorge. He’s very much in it for the music, it’s what speaks to him and it’s what he is happiest doing, he’s settled in well, all things considered. Valentino is somewhat of a perfectionist - everything that is put down on the record is carefully selected and approved by Valentino, it’s all his  _ vision _ . Dani has always bitten his tongue on the matter, whilst Casey used to tell the frontman he was unreasonable, and Jorge - well, Jorge locked himself in the closet once because Valentino said that his song was a little too “teenage rebellion,”.    
  
“I hate that chord arrangement,” Valentino says, his clear voice evident in the recording booth. Dani looks up from his own notes and feels his chest twist at the wrinkled frown on Marc’s young face. Jorge is running late, as always, leaving Dani to play peacemaker.   
  
“What’s wrong with it? Sounded perfect to me,”   
  
“Well, it just didn’t sound right for this particular part. Like it’s a little too hurried, you know?” Dani can practically hear the whine in Valentino’s voice. “Maybe you could try something a little slower?”   
  
“But if I go any slower, I’ll be playing backwards,” Marc takes on his own whiny tone, and Dani prepares himself for the inevitable tongue lashing that the guitarist will receive for going against Valentino’s vision, but it never arrives. Valentino can only stare at Marc, his pale cheeks suddenly turning pink, mumbling under his breath.    
  
Thankfully, for the frontman, his embarrassment is cut short by Jorge’s arrival.    
  
“Sorry I’m late, bitches,” He drawls out, his eyes hidden by his mirrored aviators, his pale neck covered with a number of tell-tale red bruises.   
  
Dani finds himself ripping his gaze away from the marks. It’s none of his business who Jorge spends his nights (and the majority of his mornings) with - but it still stings. They’d finally succumbed to their feelings just a few weeks before Casey had quit the band and the  _ arrangement  _ between them, but Jorge was adamant that it was strictly sex. They had slept together, albeit with Jorge on a mixture of cocaine and alcohol, surprisingly soft and tender, only to be the atypical asshole the morning after. Dani wasn’t surprised to see Jorge go back to his old ways, playing the rockstar role that he loves.   
  
“Did I miss anything?” He slumps down next to Dani, throwing his arm around the bassist.    
  
Dani stiffens at the contact. “Nothing much,” He mutters, trying to ignore the distinct smell of sex that lingers over the drummer. “Just Vale trying to take over everything as usual,”   
  
Jorge’s eyes slide over to where Valentino is still trying to get Marc to maybe play the arrangement the way he wants. But Marc is holding firm, all arms crossed over his guitar and everything. Jorge watches Valentino’s cheeks become more blotchy and red.    
  
“Marc, please, just try it one more time,” The frontman’s tone is almost begging - which makes Dani raise an eyebrow. Valentino never begs, he  _ demands _ . Jorge can obviously see the change in Valentino too, he leans back in his chair, pushing his feet into Dani’s lap.    
  
“He wants to fuck him,” He mutters, smirking as he takes out his packet of cigarettes. Dani wrinkles his nose as the drummer proceeds to pick one out and light it, a tendril of smoke curling from the end. “I bet Vale breaks within a week,”   
  
“You know I hate it when you smoke in front of me,” Dani says, blowing the smoke away from his face. “Like can’t you smoke somewhere else?”   
  
There’s a flicker of something in Jorge’s eyes, but their attention is turned back to Valentino who sighs heavily in exasperation, throwing down his headphones.    
  
“I give up for today,” Valentino mutters, shaking his head. “This song is a disaster,”   
  
“You’re only saying that because you haven’t got complete control over it,” Marc’s voice is clearly audible within the recording booth. Dani knows that he should step in and stop the argument before everything goes too far, but Jorge stops him, his hand curling around Dani’s wrist. Ignoring the warmth that slowly seeps up his arm at the contact, he finds himself staring through the haze of smoke into green-hazel eyes.    
  
“Leave them,” Jorge smirks, almost knowingly. “They’ll sort this out,”   
  
Dani almost recalls the time that he left Casey and Valentino to “sort things out” and he had returned to a destroyed room with both men nursing injuries - Valentino from a bust nose and Casey with a swollen eye. It had taken both Dani and Alberto to ensure that the band’s upcoming tour to Europe went ahead because Casey had even refused to be on the same stage as Valentino. “We could have some alone time ourselves,”   
  
Dani feels his cheeks heat up at Jorge’s suggestion, watching the smirk form over Jorge’s lips. “I- I don’t think that’s a good idea,” He murmurs, his gaze flickering back over to Valentino still pleading with Marc to try one last time. “Besides, I have plans,”   
  
“With who?” Jorge asks, the smirk clinging to the corners of his mouth. “Who could possibly be more important than me-”   
  
“Casey,”    
  
Dani watches Jorge’s eyes darken at the mere mention of the name. “He asked if we could have dinner together and-”   
  
“And of course, you agreed,” Dani fights not to bristle at Jorge’s spiteful tone. “You never could say no to him, even after he got married,”   
  
Dani remains silent. He doesn’t want to get into the details of how his and Casey’s relationship. He always knew that Adriana was the love of Casey’s life, but the way that he cut Dani out of his life still stings. Dani knows it was wrong and he never thought he would be the person sleeping with a married man but he couldn’t stop himself. Casey stopped him thinking about someone else, Casey pressed open mouthed kisses to Dani’s shoulder and made him forget. “We’re just friends now, I don’t understand what the problem is,”   
  
“The problem is that you are still pining after him,” Jorge snarls. “You need to move on and realise that he doesn’t want you,”   
  
“Why do you care?” Dani hisses back.   
  
“I don’t,” Jorge murmurs.    
  
Dani says nothing in response to the drummer. He wordlessly picks up his notebook and shrugs on his coat before he moves over to where Valentino is still seated at the recording booth. “I have to go,” He says, ignoring the white-hot stare that he can feel burning into his back. Valentino looks like he is ready to argue so Dani holds up a hand. “I’ve recorded my bass parts, you just need to dub them over when Jorge does his drum parts,”   
  
Valentino doesn’t argue for once, his eyes simply flicker back to where Marc is still stubbornly standing in the booth. Dani wonders if there’s much truth in what Jorge is saying - Valentino is one of those people who is immediately drawn to new and interesting things, he uses them and then discards them without a second thought - and the way that the two men are looking at each other, there is certainly a degree of interest there. He shrugs the thought away and leaves the recording studio, not realising the pair of green-hazel eyes that follow him to the door.   
  


* * *

Jorge reluctantly moves over to where Valentino is sitting after Dani’s departure, trying to ignore the thoughts that race through his head - thoughts of Dani smiling in the special way that he reserves only for people that he truly likes, his tiny hand curling around Casey’s, the Australian man’s hand around Dani’s waist as he tugs him back to the hotel room where he gently lowers Dani onto the bed and - 

“Earth to Jorge, are you in there?” Valentino’s voice cuts through his thoughts and Jorge blinks to find the older man smirking at him. “Thinking about a certain someone?”   
  
Jorge bristles. “Should be asking you the same question, Vale,” He pastes on his best smirk, his eyes flickering over to where Marc is in the booth, playing some sort of guitar solo that he’s made up on the spot. Valentino follows Jorge’s glance and his smile drops.    
  
“He’s too young for me,” Valentino says quietly. “And besides, it’s just hero worship,”

Jorge’s smirk reappears. “I didn’t know that hero worship equated to wanting him to suck your dick,”   
  
Valentino’s cheeks turn pink. “I- I don’t want that,”   
  
“You haven’t thought about him in that way?”   
  
“Of course I have, but he’s a kid, Jorge. He’s too innocent for all that and I don’t want to break him,”   
  
Jorge’s eyes flicker back towards the frontman. “You never cared before,”   
  
“This is different,” Valentino murmurs softly before turning his attention away from Marc. “ _ He’s _ different,”   
  
Jorge really wants a hit right about now - he needs one, what with Dani off somewhere with that stupid perfect Aussie asshole and Vale making moon eyes at their guitarist. “What about we cut loose, you can take your mind off  _ things _ ,”  Jorge’s eyes slide back over to Marc.    
  
Valentino sighs heavily. “You’re on,”    
  


* * *

  
The restaurant that Casey has picked is typical of the man’s taste. It’s small and intimate, what with the candles carefully placed on every single table and the soft piano music playing in the background. Casey looks as put together as always - healthier almost, the bags that plagued underneath his eyes are almost completely gone and he has a glow about him that Dani hasn’t seen since the early days that Yamaha formed.    
  
“Dani,” Casey flashes his smile as he folds himself around the smaller bassist. “It’s good to see you again, I already ordered our drinks,”   
  
Dani accepts the hug before the two men break apart. “It’s good to see you too. How are you?”   
  
“I’m fine. Besides, shouldn’t I be asking you that? Heard you got a new guitarist for Vale to torture,”   
  
Dani worries his lip. “I’m fine. Marc has settled in fine, winding up Vale like you used to,”   
  
Casey smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, I don’t miss it,”   
  
“Do you miss me?” Dani finds the words falling from his lips before he can stop them.    
  
Casey closes his eyes. “Dani, please don’t ask me that,”   
  
Dani is about to argue back when the waiter returns with the drinks - a large white wine for Casey and a martini for Dani - before handing them menus and slinking off to serve some other customers.    
  
“I’m so sorry, Dani,” Casey murmurs, breaking the silence between them. “You know I do, but I just couldn’t do it anymore-”   
  
“Because of Jorge?”   
  
“No, because of  _ you _ , Dani,”   
  


* * *

  
“Wow, this place is incredible,” Marc murmurs as he glances around the nightclub, his mouth open as he surveys the girls dancing on various podiums scattered around the room, the heavy bass music thumping loudly against his chest.    
  
“Get used to it, hotshot,” Valentino says with a smirk, his arm winding around Marc’s shoulder to pull the guitarist closer and prevent him from becoming lost in the crowd. “This is your life now,”   
  
Marc grins widely. Jorge has already disappeared off somewhere, presumably to score some drugs or get laid, lost in the crowd somewhere. Marc leans into the warm touch of Valentino’s arm against his own, not noticing the blue eyes flicker over him. “Fancy a drink?” Valentino murmurs against his ear, and Marc shivers at the contact, nodding slowly.    
  
Valentino doesn’t even have to wait for a drink at the bar. He’s served almost immediately and a large glass of some bright blue and purple concoction is pressed into Marc’s hand. The guitarist takes a sip, wincing slightly at the bitter taste of the vodka as Valentino laughs, taking a sip of his own cocktail, his fingers wrapped delicately around the glass. Marc bites his lip and wrenches his gaze away, taking another slug of his drink. 

“You know,” Valentino murmurs again. “You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to,”   
  
“It’s okay, it’s just a little strong,” Marc says with a small smile.    
  
“I always forget how innocent you are sometimes,” Valentino responds with a wry smile of his own.    
  
Marc wants to respond but he’s not sure how. He downs the rest of his drink, trying not to wince again as the bitterness hits the back of his throat. “Aren’t you going to keep up, Rossi?”   
  
Valentino’s smile grows wider. “Thought you would never ask,”   
  


* * *

  
For someone as well known as Jorge, it’s easy for the drummer to acquire the gear he needs. He started off with good intentions, but no amount of alcohol could dull the pain and the thoughts that continue to race through his mind. He remembers slamming the shot glass on the bar - his thoughts turning to a certain small bassist, probably sitting in a restaurant somewhere laughing at Casey Stoner’s shitty jokes -    
  
The alcohol does nothing to dilute the image of Dani smiling, his hand held in Casey’s so he decides he needs to up his game. He feels the rush as the small bag of cocaine is pressed into his hand and he finds himself in the bathroom a few moments later, tapping out the white powder with one of his bank cards. The high is almost instantaneous - the low thrum of anxiety is wiped away as he feels the rush of the cocaine hit his bloodstream. He slumps to the side of the toilet slightly, blinking as the colours around him intensify - but the image of Dani does too. He snorts another line, eager to push the thought of his bandmate out of his mind but it does nothing to dull the racing thoughts, if anything, it makes them worse.   
  
He needs something stronger.    
  
Jorge picks himself up off the floor and wipes a hand over his nose and mouth before he leaves the bathroom to find someone else to supply him with the ultimate high, the one that he is sure will make him forget -    
  


* * *

  
Marc has lost count of how much alcohol he has consumed. He knows he will be suffering in the morning, but pressed in a booth with Valentino Rossi at his side, he finds it hard to care. He’s not sure how it happened but his head rests against the taller man’s shoulder and he can smell the faint scent of the cologne that the frontman is wearing, mixed in with cigarette smoke and something else that is quintessentially _Valentino_.   
  
“You smell nice,” Marc finds himself slurring, his nose rubbing gently against Valentino’s shirt.   
  
The Italian laughs gently, taking another slug of his drink. “You don’t have very high standards, Marc,”  
  
“You know, I used to have your poster on my wall when I was younger. Still do actually, back at my parent’s house. I thought you were the hottest one in the band-” Marc pauses, giggling. “And now I am in the band,”  
  
Valentino is far too drunk to even process that situation. He tries not to think about teenage Marc plastering posters of his face up in his teenage bedroom, of him staring longingly up at the glossy pages. “Marc, you’re going to regret saying these things in the morning,”  
  
“I don’t care,” Marc slurs, lifting his head ever so slightly. “I went to one of your concerts a few years ago - I was in the front row and I couldn’t take my eyes off you - and ever since I joined the band, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” He pauses, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I know that you want me, Vale,”  
  
Valentino can feel the tell-tale swell of heat curling in his lower thigh, close to where Marc’s hand is currently resting, rubbing small circles through his jeans. “Marc, we shouldn’t-” His tone is weak.   
  
“Why not?” Dark brown eyes lock on his own blue ones. Marc leans in, his breath slowly brushing against Valentino’s skin. “I know you want this as much as I do,”  
  
Valentino’s resolve suddenly fades and he moves forward, capturing Marc’s lips with his own. It’s everything that he imagined - he can taste the bitterness of the alcohol that Marc has been consuming mixing in with Marc’s own natural sweetness. The younger man moans against his mouth, his hand moving to clasp at Valentino’s curls - 

  
“Oh my god, someone call an ambulance! Jorge Lorenzo is dead!” Someone screams over the music and Valentino rips his lips away from Marc, turning his head towards the crowd.    
  
“What did he just say?” Marc asks, his drunkenness seeming to almost disappear at the words, his lips still swollen and red from Valentino’s actions.    
  
But Valentino doesn’t answer. He’s already gently pulling himself away from Marc and sprinting as fast as his legs can carry him towards the men’s bathroom. He forces his way through the crowd that is beginning to form, only to stop when he reaches the bathroom. Jorge is slumped against the toilet, unmoving, with a needle in his arm.    
  
“No, no,” Valentino murmurs. “You stupid bastard,”   
  


* * *

  
Dani blinks once at Casey’s words. “What do you mean it was my fault you left? You told the press that you couldn’t work with Jorge anymore,”   
  
“I lied,” Casey says, worrying his lip. “I just didn’t want anyone to know the truth - I couldn’t work with you anymore, because I was killing me to be around someone I could never have,” Casey’s hand gently wraps around Dani’s, his thumb tracing over Dani’s knuckles. “I just - I couldn’t do it anymore,”   
  
“But you’re married, Casey. You love Adriana-”   
  
“I do, but I love you too,” Casey’s eyes flicker upwards towards Dani’s. “I fell in love with you and I thought that getting married would stop those feelings but it didn’t,”   
  
“Casey, I-”   
  
“And then there’s the problem of Jorge-”   
  
“What about Jorge? I know you hated him, you don’t have to tell me that again,”   
  
“He’s in love with you, Dani,” Casey’s gaze never flickers.    
  
Dani bites back a laugh, snatching his hand away. “Jorge? In love with me? He’s not in love with me, he only loves three things - sex, drugs and rock and roll,”    
  
“He loves you, Dani. That’s why he hated me - because I took the one thing he truly wanted away from him,  _ you _ ,”   
  
“No, no,” Dani shakes his head. “He can’t be. He doesn’t love anyone,”   
  
“He loves you, he’s always loved you, ever since you were teenagers and you formed the band. It’s why we never got on - he knew what was going on between us ages ago, and he hated the fact that you chose me over him. He doesn’t know you love him back-”   
  
“I-”   
  
“What? You thought I didn’t know, Dani? I saw your longing looks towards him, I know all about your notebook, the one with all the songs in that are about him, about the songs you wrote that made it onto the album that are about him and how much it hurt you, because this time you were sure he would notice your feelings,”   
  
“Stop,” Dani hisses angrily. “You don’t know a thing about me. Why did you even ask me to dinner tonight? To make me miserable? To make me beg to carry on our affair?”   
  
“Dani-” Casey begins, but he’s cut off by the bassist’s phone ringing out. Dani glances down at the caller ID.  _ Valentino.  _   
  
Raising an eyebrow, Dani answers the call. “What is it, Vale?”   
  
“You need to come to the hospital right now. Jorge overdosed,”   
  
Dani sighs. “He’s overdosed before. He’ll be fine, just get him into a bed and make him sleep it off,”   
  
“No, Dani,” Valentino’s tone sounds slightly wet and manic, as though he’s been crying. “The stupid bastard overdosed on heroin. Get here right now,”    
  
The line goes dead. Dani lowers the phone slowly, tears pricking up in the corners of his eyes.    
  
“Is everything okay?” Casey asks, his tone soft and caring.    
  
“I have to go,” Dani murmurs out almost robotically, shrugging on his coat. “I’m sorry, I need to go,”   
  
“Dani,” Casey’s hand is warm against his bicep. “Dani, what happened?”   
  
“Jorge overdosed-”

Dani tries not to cry as he wrenches himself away from Casey’s warm touch. He has to get to Jorge.    



End file.
